Morningside Fall (29 page)

“Come on, come on!” Gamble shouted.

Cass pushed into the corridor to make room for everyone else. Gamble waited by the door, motioning fiercely to the rest of the team, as if by waving them in she could propel them that much faster.

Mouse was the first one through, carrying Wick across his shoulders. Cass couldn’t believe he was able to carry both Wick and all their gear, and still walk, let alone run, but he managed to cover the ground with impressive speed. The others must’ve been holding back to cover Mouse, because as soon as he made it into the front room, the others piled in quickly behind. Swoop was the last one in.

He and Gamble slammed the doors shut behind them, and Able grabbed something off the side of Swoop’s pack. Cass’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the relative darkness of the room; the only light now came in from two narrow horizontal slot windows, placed high and covered over with steel grating on the inside. In two seconds Able was at work, running a wide band of what looked like some kind of thick grey putty down the center of the doors, overlapping both where the doors met in the middle. When it was in place, he made a flicking motion and stepped back, and seconds later the strip let off a shower of white-hot sparks, dazzling in the darkened room, fusing the doors together.

Everyone seemed to be moving all at once, but there was no chaos in the motion. Gamble was barking orders that the team seemed to be able to respond to faster than Cass could process. They put three guns on the door: Swoop, Able, and Finn.

Gamble sent Sky to check the stairwell, and he pushed past Cass with such intensity it seemed like he barely registered she was even there. Gamble started down the hall, checking the doors on either side.

Mouse had Wick sitting down on the floor, propped against the wall at the mouth of the corridor. Wick’s eyes were open and he seemed alert, but his breathing was labored. He had a hand pressed hard into the hollow where his neck met his left shoulder, just above the collarbone. Cass could see the blood burbling out around his fingers. After a moment she realized Mouse was calling her name.

“Cass, I need you!” he called. She snapped into the moment. Cass was still holding Wren, so she slid him to his feet and then went and crouched next to Mouse. “Help me get his pack off.”

Mouse leaned Wick gently forward while Cass worked on the buckles. They were gummed with blood and were hard to work.

“Steady your breathing, Wick,” he said. “Slow it down.”

“You first,” Wick said with a clenched jaw. He grimaced, and Cass saw blood on his teeth. They got the pack off his back and scooted him back against the wall.

“Hey,” Mouse said as they were helping him move, “you didn’t have to run all that way, haulin’ you.” He said it with a smile, but Cass could see the concern in his eyes. Mouse gave a quick tug to a pouch on his chest harness, and it fell open, revealing the neatly packed and secured contents of his trauma kit. He worked quickly to get Wick’s chest rig out of the way so he could assess the wound.

“Talk to me, Mouse!” Finn called.

“He’s busy!” Wick responded. “…And mind your business!” And then more quietly, he said, “Is it bad, man?”

Mouse moved Wick’s hand and blood pooled in the hollow of his clavicle, but Cass didn’t have time to see the wound before Mouse poured some kind of gritty powder over it and started packing it with gauze.

“Quit leaking everywhere,” Mouse said, “and it won’t be. Cass, put pressure right here, hard, even if he squeals.”

Cass did as she was instructed, and Wick locked eyes with her.

“You’re going to be fine,” she said.

“You’re just saying that.”

“It makes me feel better.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I know.”

Outside, the Weir continued to squall, but they sounded scattered and didn’t seem to be getting any louder or closer that Cass could tell. Gamble came back down the hall past them and grabbed Able’s shoulder. He turned his head to look at her, but kept his weapon up and pointed at the door.

“Go help Sky on the stairs,” she said. Able nodded and hustled down the hall and up the stairs. Gamble came and dropped to a knee alongside Wick. “Wick, how bad are you?”

“More scared than hurt,” he said.

“Mouse?” Gamble asked.

“Couple of punctures, just behind the clavicle, some tearing,” Mouse said. “Jugular and carotid are probably OK, but if it hit the subclavian, could be bad news.”

“Can we move him?” she asked.

“If we have to.”

“I want to get higher, rig the stairs.”

Mouse nodded. “Gimme a few, see if we can make sure this clots up.”

A sudden impact made the doors shudder, snapping everyone’s attention to the front. Except for Mouse. He was intent on Wick, calmly evaluating him.

“Might not have it,” Gamble whispered.

They waited in tense silence, waited for that next blow to fall. Ten seconds passed.

“What do you think those doors are rated?” Finn asked in a low voice.

“Nothin’ like that gate was,” Swoop answered quietly. Finn readjusted his grip on his rifle.

Thirty seconds. Sixty. But no more blows fell on the doors.

“Seal up the hinges, too,” Gamble said, her voice lowered. “And rig a charge on the center. If we have to get out that way, we’ll go out hard.”

Finn kept the door covered while Swoop cautiously approached. He produced another strip of the same putty-like substance Able had slapped on the middle of the door. This time, however, Swoop drew a large knife from its sheath on his chest rig and cut the strip into quarters. These he placed on the hinge-side of the doors, two on each, high and low. He ignited them in succession, and they each rained sparks to the floor. Once they’d finished, Swoop dropped his pack and dug out a few components that Cass didn’t recognize.

“When you say ‘go out hard’, how hard do you mean?” Swoop asked, as he started assembling pieces.

“Hard enough to kill everything on the other side,” Gamble answered.

Swoop nodded and grabbed another two components out his bag, and then started affixing them to the doors.

Wren was still standing in the hall where Cass had left him, with his hands over his ears, just watching those doors with wide eyes. Jaw clenched, lips white.

“Any chance they didn’t actually see us come in here?” Finn asked.

“It’s hard for them to track in the daylight,” Cass said. “Maybe they lost us.”

Mouse patted her on the arm and shifted position to take over putting pressure on Wick’s wound. Cass lifted her hands slowly while he slid his in underneath and piled more gauze on top of the wound. Cass’s hands were tacky where the blood had soaked through the first layers of the dressing.

“They know we’re here,” Wren said from the hall. Gamble looked at him, and then at Cass.

“If he says they know, they know,” Cass said.

Gamble nodded.

“Sky,” she said, “we need some elevation… Understood… Can you check for roof access…? I
understand
that. I’m not asking to clear the whole thing… Alright, check.” She shook her head. “Can we get Wick up nine flights?”

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Mouse said. “I don’t want him going into shock.”

“I’m not dead yet,” Wick said. “You don’t have to talk about me like I am.”

“Sorry,
you
lost a lot of blood,” Mouse replied.

“I didn’t really
lose
it, it’s all right outside.”

“Knock it off, Wick, this isn’t a joke,” Finn said.

“I can make it up some stairs,” Wick said. “If someone can carry my pack.”

“I’ll take it,” Cass said, before anyone else could respond.

Swoop finished rigging the charge on the door and dropped back. Outside the cries of the Weir had dropped off. Mouse had Wick hold the gauze in place and started winding a wide bandage over the wound and around under his armpit.

“What happened in there, Finn?” Swoop asked.

“I don’t really know,” he said. “We were clearing rooms, everything was fine. Come around a corner, and we’re staring at a crowd of Weir packed into a little dark room in the middle. Just standing there, all packed in together. Tried to back out, one of ’em pounced. Wick went down and it was on top of him, and the rest started coming after us. Like walking into the middle of a hornet’s nest.”

“My fault,” Wick said. “Took it too fast…”

“No way anyone could’ve anticipated that,” Finn said. “It was like they were switched off, and we woke ’em up. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I don’t think anyone has,” Swoop said. “Never gave much thought to where they went during the day.”

“Alright,” Gamble said. “I want to get up to the roof, get a good look at what we’re dealing with. Swoop, Finn, rig the first two flights of stairs. If they breach that door, I want it to cost them.”

“You want to drop the stairs, or just kill a lot of ’em?” Swoop asked.

“Both.”

He grunted. “That’ll take most of what we got.”

“I’d rather use it all than die with it in your pack.”

Swoop gave a little nod. “Check.”

“Everybody else, we’re moving topside,” Gamble said.

“To the t-t-top floor?” Painter asked.

“No. To the roof,” Gamble said. “We don’t have time to clear the whole building, but we can control the roof. Get your stuff, and we’ll move up.”

Cass grabbed Wick’s pack. It was a lot heavier than she’d anticipated, and she once again marveled at Gamble and her “boys”. As far as she knew, none of them were modified or enhanced with chems, or gene splicing, or servorganics. Just raw humanity and determination. It made their skill and stamina that much more impressive. Cass looped the straps over her shoulders, backwards, so she could carry his pack in front of her. Then she took Wren’s hand, and together they followed Gamble down the corridor towards the stairs.

Behind them, Mouse helped Wick to his feet, and looped Wick’s right arm over his shoulders.

“Lean on me, let me do most of the work,” Mouse said. “And try to keep that left arm as stable as possible.”

“Alright,” Wick said.

“You let me know if you start feeling weak, dizzy, or like you can’t catch your breath.”

“I feel like all that right now.”

“Then let me know if it gets worse.”

“Alright.”

They all started up the stairs together, Gamble leading the way, cautiously leading with her weapon. Cass came right behind, with Wren by her side. Painter followed them. Mouse and Wick brought up the rear.

The stairwell was plain: bare concrete floor and stairs, a simple iron railing. Vertical slot windows were spaced every so often, lending enough light to see by, but they were too narrow to give any meaningful view of what was going on outside.

Down below them, Finn started laying out charges and some other devices Cass hadn’t seen before, while Swoop went to work rigging them up on the first set of stairs. Cass had never been around so many explosives before, and she found it wholly unnerving, even as much as she trusted Swoop as an expert.

“Hey,” Gamble said, calling back down to Swoop and Finn. “Make it good enough, not perfect. I don’t want you fiddling around down here.”

“Ain’t the kind of thing you rush, G,” Swoop answered.

“We’re more spread out than I like already. I don’t want you guys getting cut off.”

“Go on,” Finn said. “We’ll be right behind you.”

Gamble looked like she was about to say something else, but instead she just nodded and resumed leading them up the stairs. Once they got to the top of the second floor, she said in a lowered voice, “Sky, we’re coming up.”

She kept her weapon up and swept the angles as they presented themselves, constantly vigilant for any sudden threat. Each floor was virtually indistinguishable from the others. At each landing, the stairwell connected to a long, dark corridor with doors on either side.

As they passed each one, Cass tried not to think about Gamble mentioning how they didn’t have time to clear the whole building. There was no telling who – or what – might be lurking down any one of those halls, or behind any one of those doors. The fact that they hadn’t heard or seen any signs of danger gave some small comfort, but the memory of the cascade of Weir pouring out of that building was still too fresh.

They took their time climbing the stairs, not wanting to rush Wick, not daring to get separated. Though it wasn’t really that far to climb, by the time they reached the top floor, Cass’s legs were starting to burn from all the weight she was carrying, combined with the slower pace.

Beyond the ninth floor, the stairwell extended up in a fully enclosed corridor, like a toppled chimney. There were no windows, and Cass knew for the others it must have seemed an overwhelming darkness. At the top there was a single door, which she assumed led out onto the roof.

Gamble halted at the bottom of the steps, and flicked on the red light affixed to the underside of her gun. “Sky, we’re coming out.”

She led them up the final flight of stairs, and swung the door open. The flood of sunlight overwhelmed Cass completely, and everyone shielded their eyes. When they made it out onto the roof, Able was waiting for them there by the door. Cass drew her veil down. When her eyes finally adjusted, she saw Sky set up at the edge of the roof, facing the enclave.

The roof itself was flat, with a few industrial-grade vents – and large dormant machinery of unknown purpose – clustered near the center. Here and there were scattered broken remnants of once-useful things. Cass guessed anything of value had long ago been scavenged by the residents of Ninestory. Or rather, by the former residents.

The team piled their gear by the rusted machinery. Mouse eased Wick to a sitting position, leaning back against their packs and facing the door. Wick was pale, his face slick with a thin sheen of sweat. His breathing seemed shallower and more labored than it had before, and Cass hoped it was just from the exertion of the climb. Mouse knelt next to him and checked his vitals. He didn’t look happy with the results.

Cass walked across the roof to join Sky and Gamble at the edge. The wind was up, chilly even in the full sun. She flipped up the collar of her coat to keep it off her neck. As she crossed, she was amazed by the commanding view the roof provided of the surrounding cityscape.